Hummingbird Heartbeat
by xxwanderlustdreamingxx
Summary: Over the past thousand or so years, he's only ever thought about being human once he told her. He lied. Or the four times that Klaus thought about being human, and the one time that he didn't.


He's never understood why some vampires hold humanity in such high regard. He'll never understand why some choose to forgo feeding on humans in the desperate hope that they can retain the threads of the person they used to be before their transition. To be human again; to feel and to love and to live. Humanity and all the qualities that come with it is a foreign concept to him. He is not a vampire, but he is not a werewolf either. He is a hybrid, a foot in the door of both worlds through his own choosing. And hybrid's do not feel remorse, or guilt, or love. No matter how much he tries he finds himself incapable of feeling any of those qualities.

It's not for lack of trying. Contrary to popular belief he is not the big, bad, scary hybrid terror that everyone thinks him to be. At least not all the time. Sometimes he likes to take a step back, likes fading into the darkness and just getting lost, never having to worry about anything or anyone other than himself.

He runs into his family from time to time. Kol over in China, Elijah in England, Rebekah in the America's. Finn has always been like him, content to separate himself from his family and go his own way, find his own path and direction. He could find himself relating to his older brother, if he didn't find him so terribly boring. He's always thought his biggest weakness is his fear of being alone, and how he can't stay away from his family and trying to reunite them as much as he tries too.

The first time he thinks about being human is when he visits a friend in Mystic Falls, shortly after he has been turned. The horror and circumstances of his turning is still fresh in his mind, the bewilderment as he woke up coated in his own blood, his siblings in similar shape. The anger he felt at his mother for subjecting him to his doom. He hadn't yet lost his humanity, hadn't yet fully committed to the vampire life that he was destined to lead. Hadn't become the monster that everyone believed him to be.

He doesn't reveal himself to her. She would be frightened by his reappearance, she already believes him to be dead. The entire village does, the Mikaelson family just another of the many victims of the werewolves who turn when the moon hangs full and silvery in the sky. Now she's just a distant memory, one of many faces that haunt his dreams at night, one of many who occasionally show up in his nightmares.

She's just given birth to a son, and he looks on their sleeping forms in silence. She's cradling the tiny boy so protectively, like she'd give up her life in a heartbeat for his if given the choice. A heartbeat. Such a wonderful thing, the cause of so many stupid and wonderful actions. Something that makes you so distinctly human. His heart hasn't beat for nigh upon a thousand years now.

And it's then that he wonders what it would be like to feel that, to hold a child in his arms and to know inexplicably that it's his. What it would feel like too invest his entire future in such a small person and to be the centre of this person's entire world.

That was the first time that he thought of being human.

* * *

"_I never answered your question from before. If I thought about being human." _He says suddenly as they're walking, and she's glancing at him curiously now, wondering if he's going to continue with this.

"_Once." He admits, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise. He doesn't blame her. If he'd been in her position, he never thought in a thousand years that someone like him would ever entertain that idea. She remains silent, and he can tell that she's bursting at the seams to ask questions._

"_I was on a trek in the Andes and a hummingbird flew up to me_." He said hesitantly, unsure as to whether he should continue with this story, because if you ask him it's bloody cheesy. But against his better judgement he continued. "_It just hovered there staring at me; its tiny heart was pattering like a machine gun."_

He remembers that day like it was yesterday. He'd put his age to be about 450 years old. The Andes were inhabited by herders and shepherds, and humans were few and far between, just the way he liked it.

He'd never seen a hummingbird before. He'd marvelled at the tiny bird, beating its wings furiously to stay aloft, to stay alive. How easy it would be for him, to reach out and swat it from the air, to send it plummeting from the sky to its death on the ground below. How fragile a creature. Its heartbeat's were thunderous, so fast and rapid that he could barely pick out the pause between each one.

Another smile tugs at her lips as she continues to gaze at him carefully, like she's scared of showing too much emotion around him. He doesn't blame her. He's lost count of the many times that he's emotionally blackmailed people in the past, some of them friends, some of them family. She was neither though. She was something else entirely, in a category of her own.

"_And I thought what a thing to have to work that hard everyday to stay alive, to be constantly on the verge of death. And how satisfying every day must be that it's survived._" He finished his story quietly, his voice barely a murmur.

It had been a revelation he never thought he'd had. It was the first time he'd really stopped and valued life, and everything that it brought with it. To have to fight to stay alive each day, what an adventure that would be.

He's already throwing walls up as he wraps up the story that he's never told another soul; living or dead in a thousand years. Because whether he wants to admit it or not, with each word he says in his quiet voice, one of his carefully placed walls are crumbling in front of her, and she's seeing a glimpse of who he really is, everything that he's seen and felt and heard and experienced.

"_And that's the only time I've ever thought about being human_."

He's lying of course. Because it was the second time he'd thought of being human. And it hadn't been the last.

* * *

_Beautiful. Strong. Full of light_, He tells her, and she goes running, whether or not it's from fear or anger he can't tell. Perhaps a bit of both. Fear of the unknown has always had the ability to destroy human's to turn them into former shells of themselves. But she wasn't a human anymore, and he was the furthest thing from it.

And it stuns him into silence, because she's the first person to say no, to refuse him in over a hundred years. He knows his reputation, and he's sure that she knows who he is; she wouldn't be risking her life for her best friend if she didn't know.

His bracelet stolen from a long dead queen winks from her wrist and the dress makes her look like a modern day Cinderella.

He likens her to the sun sometimes. A ball of energy hanging in the sky, responsible for giving life and destroying it. A ticking time bomb, soon to go supernova and plunge the world into darkness.

She is the same. It's what drew him to her in the first place, her fire and her feistiness, and her stubbornness. Because she was a ball of energy and the love she had for the people she cared about was endless. But like all vampires, she always had the ability to destroy you with a flick of the wrist.

Perhaps they weren't as different as she thought after all. He had the ability to destroy anyone he wanted. But she was more dangerous than him if that was even possible. Because although she didn't know it; she was the only person that had the ability to destroy him.

So she pouts, and glares at him and stomps one of her feet. And he thinks to himself, wouldn't it be wonderful to settle down with this girl? To show her what the world has to offer and to open her up to countless new experiences?

That was the third time that he thought about being human.

* * *

He's hurt her again. It seems to be something that he's particularly good at, at least when it comes to her. For every step forward he takes with her, for every good deed he does (and it kills him to lower himself to that level for her, it really does) he will always be guaranteed to fuck up, and then suddenly he'll find himself three steps back from where he was before.

It's fast becoming a familiar pattern.

This time instead of lying on her bed she's on the floor, and instead of it being her birthday it's just like any other mundane day of the year. Nothing special.

She deserves better, to die on the cold, hard, ground. So when he lifts her into his arms; holding her a little longer than appropriate given the circumstances she doesn't even protest. He sees the gratitude in her eyes, for giving her this small comfort as he gently places her onto the couch, shifting a pillow from under her to make her more comfortable.

She's talking to him, saying something but he doesn't want to listen. He's particularly good at that as well, hearing only what he wants to hear. But then something she says jumps out at him, and suddenly he finds himself listening against his better judgement.

"_You do it because you're hurt. This means that there's a part of you that's human."_ She croaks, and his eyes flash over to hers quickly. Because he hates to admit it, but she's changed him. She's snuck up on him, actually shown some sort of positive emotion towards him, at times pitied him.

And he's hated that, but at the same time he's sort of enjoyed that as well. The feeling of having someone care for him. It's something that he hasn't felt in a thousand years.

He moves towards her, hovers over her prone form to tell her that she's wrong. That she's always been wrong.

"_How could you possibly think that?" _he whispers to her, curiosity warring against his need to know _everything_ as he gazes at her stretched out on the couch, dying and fading away before his very eyes.

Beautiful and strong. But no longer full of light.

For a moment she doesn't look like she's going to answer, like she doesn't want to answer. But she does, and what she finally says stuns him into silence. For the first time in a very long time, someone has rendered him completely and utterly speechless.

"_Because I've seen it. And sometimes I find myself wishing I could forget all the horrible things that you've done."_

"_But you can't. Can you?" _He replies dully, and some small part wishes that he didn't just ask that question. She pauses, and what she says next almost makes his undead heart beat, whether it be fear or anxiety he doesn't know.

"_I know that you're in love with me. Anybody capable of love is capable of being saved. _

And he looks away from her, because somehow she's become the one person in his messed up life that knows him better than he knows himself. She's seen his soul, the battered parts that remain at least; and she can't go back now.

So he tells her that she's hallucinating, and when he offers her his blood he tries to forget the conversation that just happened.

Along with cold blooded, remorseless, he can add liar to his list.

Because that was the fourth time Klaus Mikaelson thought of becoming human; when the person that he thought the world of was dying because of him.

He's always been a good liar after all.

* * *

He still marvels at the look of amazement on her face every time he takes her somewhere new. This time it's Paris, the City of Lights and Love and Beauty; and he thinks to himself isn't this just perfect for her?

There's a look of childish excitement as she clutches her guidebook to her chest, staring up at La Tour Eiffel with shining eyes. He scoffed at her decision to bring along her guidebook, telling her somewhat teasingly that he could tell her everything that she needed to know, and in fluent French if she wanted that.

He'd helped build the Eiffel tower after all.

They'd done all the tourist things. They'd walked the Champs Elysses, marvelled at the stained glass windows in Notre Dame and Sainte Chapelle, joined the crowds of people all crowding to get a look at the famed woman with the mysterious smile.

"_You're going to tell me that you painted her under the alias of Leo Da Vinci aren't you?"_ She says jokingly, and he just raises an eyebrow at her as they blend perfectly in with the dozens of tourists in the gallery.

"_Afraid not sweetheart. I was friends with Da Vinci though. Great man, although he did go a bit crazy towards the end_." He tells her with a quick wink, and she rolls her eyes.

"_Of course you knew Da Vinci_." She mutters under her breath, just quiet enough for him to hear. He laughs then, and she's powerless to stop the smile from spreading across her beautiful features.

She tangles her hand with his loosely, and he's surprised when he doesn't pull away. If Kol had been here he'd be sneering at how pathetic and lovesick he was. But he didn't care. When he was with her, none of it mattered.

The road to forgiveness was long, and he suspected that she hadn't entirely forgiven him yet.

He'd just left one day. Without a word or a goodbye he'd packed his belongings into a bag and had left Mystic Falls.

He'd always enjoyed getting lost.

He'd returned to the Andes, spent a week meandering through the mountains, just appreciating the clean air, and the nature and the isolation. He'd needed this.

He'd spent Carnivale in Rio, and New Years in Chicago. He'd hopped across the Pond to one of his homes in London, and had spent the past few months backpacking across Europe before returning to Africa.

She'd found him in Egypt. He'd had no idea how, but she'd always been resourceful and intelligent.

He was sketching the scene before him, charcoal flying over the pad and tongue in cheek in concentration. He'd noticed her watching for a long moment before he spoke.

"_Hello sweetheart_."

He'd listened as he'd stomped her foot and ranted and raved. _How could you leave? Why did you leave? Why didn't you say goodbye?_

"I wasn't sure that you particularly cared." He'd answered without looking at her, and he can feel her anger growing exponentially as she takes a seat next to him, breathing in and out through her nose to calm herself.

He has to stop himself from chuckling in amusement. But what she does next surprises him, swatting the charcoal from his hand, and hauling his lips to hers for a heady kiss.

It feels like coming home.

"_Klaus? Can we go to the top?"_ Her soft voice brings him back to the present, and he stares at the blonde vampire before him. Beautiful. Strong. Full of light. She's blinking back at him, waiting for his answer.

So he grins at her.

"_We can do whatever you want love."_

He races her to the top, navigating the familiar zig zag staircases with ease. He beats her, but only barely; his age apparently showing as he leans against a railing with ease. He steers her to an elevator and they shoot to the top, iron latticework surrounding the tiny cage that they're in.

And then the doors open and she's stepping forward, and her mouth is hanging open. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, and she steps forward to meet it as he tangles his hand with hers.

He's thought about being human quite a few times. But this time is not one of them. Because that's what he sees stretching endlessly in front of him. Time, and plenty of it.

And for the first time in a very long time he welcomes it.

* * *

A/N: Ahh I've loved this pairing since their first scene together and I've wanted to write for them for a very long time. Elijah/Katherine and Klaus/Caroline are my OTP's!

This was inspired by the hummingbird story that Klaus told Caroline. I love how Joseph Morgan was originally only meant to be a supporting character that they planned to kill off in S3, but with one 40 second scene he manages to outclass every actor that's ever worked on this show.

Interested to see where they'll take him with the Originals!

Kudo's to you JoMo, kudo's to you indeed.

Hope you all enjoyed!

Review?


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